'WE ARE A DRY WINTER'
chapped lips,
warm mugs that burn our fingers,
small touches that start a wildfire in
our chests.
we are a dry winter.
we are a cold in between warm weather.
our arms have colored, blue, purple and yellow.
i have started to memorize the small bumps,
scratches, scars, imperfections, flaws, small freckles,
that are placed like a well planned story over your skin,
it's a map that i know by head.
we are a tangle of words and missed beats,
followed by soft murmurs and avoiding eyes.
we are a dry winter.
under our nails, collected dirt.
our hair entangled, entwined, laced around us.
like ropes, we've been caught by our own space.
our eyes meet across the room,
we breathe out all the words we wanted to say
into the cold air. before they can settle in
our mind and the anxiety can ruin
our hearts.
we are a dry winter.
we are the cold draft.
we are awkwardly bumping hips,
with freezing red toes,
a small childish blow
to cool down the hot coco in our
large mugs that we can barely hold up.
our hands want to lace each other,
the pinkish tips of our fingers keep
touching each other lightly.
it feels like the heat of the summer
within me.
and embarrassment surfaces on
our pale faces again.
cheeks burn brightly up.
we are a dry winter.
we are clumsily falling into
one another, in this small
enclosed space that is the messy
world.
we are a dry winter.
we are scratchy throats,
domestic bants that
thump, thump, thump
through halls. falling
through bathroom walls.
our fluffy socks that stick out
over the entire place.
our scarves and mittens
decorating the floors
and chairs.
sticky notes on fridges,
reminding one an other
the love that we share.
in between caught sighs
stuck at the back of our words.
☆
song rec. [a song i've been listening whilst writing]: "yellow" by moth wings.
it gave a very winter-y vibe (even though the song is literally about the color yellow, which is funny since winter is basically the last color that you might associate with that color but okay) , so i guess that's how this poem was born...
only i will write winter themed poems when spring has just begun.
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stardust | ✔
Poesía❝ we're like stardust scattered around in a mess of burning ash and perfectly unclear symphony. ❞ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀᴅᴜsᴛ ᴇʀᴀ ☆ highest rank in poetry #18 ☆ poetry for the broken has been completed on the 3rd of may 2018 ✔ ☆ cover is...
